


“...are the Cheerios smiling bravely, insisting that the show must go on?”

by notjustmom



Series: Tom Robbins Remix [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First time they meet, M/M, Tom Robbins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 12:38:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14057172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom





	“...are the Cheerios smiling bravely, insisting that the show must go on?”

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Čeština available: ["... Cheerios se statečně usmívají a trvají na tom, že show musí pokračovat?"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16142597) by [QueenMedbtheSecond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenMedbtheSecond/pseuds/QueenMedbtheSecond)



They met the way people meet.  
A random occurrence.  
An alignment of planets.  
Happenstance, serendipity, whatever word you choose to use. 

Of course, it wasn't by chance. These two would always meet. In a lab at Bart's, a coffee shop, a local, a hole in the wall bookshop or on a distant moon, light years from here and now.

They were the first. Some people claim Adam and Eve were the first, or perhaps, Romeo and Juliet, you might argue. Nope. Nuh-uh. These two were the first people who glanced up at exactly the right time and recognized that they had finally been introduced to their missing half, or maybe just a third or a sliver - not soul mates, precisely, as both would loudly deny the existence of a soul, though secretly, both hoped that one day they would be proven wrong. Without Holmes and his Watson, or Sherlock and John, as they have become these days, there would be no Harry and Sally, Han and Leia, or Beauty and her Beast... they all knew at first sight, but being what they were; strong, brilliant, intelligent people, there was no way they needed anyone.... and yet...

 

January was nearly over, Sherlock sighed at Billy, as he picked up the newspaper that Mrs. Hudson always brought up with his tea. He wondered why she bothered, to be honest. "And February will follow, then March..."

"April is nice," suggested Billy, knowing Sherlock would argue with anything he said at the moment, and of course, he wasn't wrong.

"More rain, pollen, flowers... bloody flowers..." Billy knew when to give up, so he gave up and let Sherlock carry on. "People in love... why?"

"Why what?" Hildegarde was the oldest by far, and her tolerance for Sherlock's strops had been well tested, only once did he really anger her, and he had spent months trying to achieve her forgiveness, finally, after a trip to Vienna, their relationship was mended, and ever since, she was the one who could talk him out of his moods, though recently it was wearing her down, but she hid it well most of the time, as Billy was the only one who could tell.

"Why do people fall in love, Hildy? It can only end badly."

"True, but, perhaps, it is worth it."

Sherlock stormed over to her and put his hands on his hips. "Worth it? In what way?"

Hildegarde, who had been witness to some of the legendary hatreds and even greater loves of the last three hundred years simply sighed. "Maybe one day, you will understand."

Sherlock could tell she was done, but he pressed on. "Understand? Understand what, Hildy? Billy -"

"Sherly - let's not have a repeat of three years ago, hmmm?"

Sherlock ran his fingers through his tangled mass of curls, and after a couple of deep breaths, finally conceded. "Sorry."

"Why not get a haircut?"

"Barber's out of town -"

"Bother Lestrade for a case?"

Sherlock shook his head. "He threatened to get my phone turned off if I texted him again in the next few days."

"Molly - ?"

Sherlock's eyes brightened and he shook out of his dressing gown, letting it stay where it fell in a pile next to his chair. "Molly did say she might have something for me today if I got there before 10 -" He strode over to the mantle, picked up Billy and kissed both zygomatic arches, then carefully returned him to his usual perch. "You're a genius, Billy." He grabbed his coat and scarf and flew down the steps without bothering to close the door.

"Show off," sang out Hildegarde, who promptly gave Billy the silent treatment, which continued until Charley and Bernie convinced him to apologise, even though they all knew Hildy was just annoyed that Billy had the answer for once.

 

John pulled open his drawer and stared at the apple, then closed the drawer again. After a long moment, he opened the drawer again and if he was listening carefully enough, he would have heard the apple yawn, but he wasn't, so the apple just sat there. He closed it once more, and opened his laptop, not quite sure why he bothered, but he had promised he would try. Again, he wasn't quite sure why.

And yet. 

He stared at the empty screen for approximately thirteen and a half minutes, opened and closed the drawer five more times, then decided he needed some air, so, for the first time in a couple of weeks, he decided to take a walk... to the park. Why the park? He wasn't sure, and if you asked him years later, he still couldn't tell you. But, walk he did, and the universe nodded, rubbed its collective hands together and cackled merrily to itself as if it had done something clever.

"John. John Watson?"

"Hmm?"

"Mike? Mike Stamford... we were at Bart's together..."

 

We all know what happens next. As it always does, as it always will, until the universe says otherwise.


End file.
